Incomplete Drawing
by Frozen Creatures
Summary: He's the young villain-in-training who tries hard not to let anyone see his own insecurities and mistakes. She's the girl who tries to be tough when everything around her's falling apart. "It's funny, now that I think about it, we're both the same and yet, different like the heaven and the Earth. Heh, it's kinda like Romeo and Juliet, but a lot more sad than the original." Max/Tara
1. Chapter 1

**I'm really disappointed in the lack of Tara/Max stories out there, and, because I can't get this idea out of my mind, I am here to present you, _Incomplete Drawing_! Just to warn you, this might get a little (- lot -) OOC, sorry. If there are mistakes, kindly please comment. Thank you! Okay, on with the story.**

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He felt his skin strain painfully, his nails piercing his cheeks in scarlet red. He could feel his eyes bugging out of its sockets, his mind and body deprived from a good amount of sleep. He felt the edges of his pencil as it rolled down from his hand, landing on a sketchpad with it turned to show the page which he so hardly tried to finish his work on. He bit his sore lip for the millionth time in the last few hours as his currently free hand clenched in frustration. His eyes scanned the image for a while before shaking his head, completely unsatisfied.

The drawing... it... it's not good enough - no, not _perfect_ enough. Even though his sketch seems to be too precise to be human's, he isn't satisfied. His eyes, his very, _very_ critical eyes, showed him flaws that no other person can detect, flaws - very small flaws - like, how multiple strands of hair are out place, the shade of her eyes are much more lighter than in his drawing, and how her lips are pursed together harshly whenever she tends to smile. And... how there was always a small fading blush coloring her pale cheeks whenever she does smile.

This isn't the _"perfect"_ he was trying to draw. It was more of another failure, actually, following the earlier drawings he had rejected. But, unlike those first tries, he actually got more progress in this one and it almost looked realistic and marvelous.

_Almost_ but not quite.

Without anymore thought, he tore the page from his sketchpad, crumpled it and threw it to the already full trash bin, spilling a piece of its contents. Max Thunderman stared at the scene for a moment, letting his tired eyes blink back the want to sleep before giving in to the want. He grabbed his pencils and his pad and put the materials back to his portfolio as neatly as he can in his current state.

He flopped to the mattress, relishing in the soft comfort it gave him. He looked at the clock on the table to his right and gave a sigh, a tired one. _**03:22.**_ He isn't really surprised to know how late he's been staying; he's been doing this every Friday night ever since that fateful day...

Biting back a sigh, he crossed his arms behind his head and concentrated on sleeping... which actually didn't take long, seeing how much time he spent on trying to draw. But, before his eyelids fell and covered his beautiful brown eyes and completely drifted to Slumber Land, he couldn't help but think of that girl who is responsible for his current addiction.

_**Ginger hair.**_

_**Gray eyes.**_

_**Enigmatic smirk.**_

_**One name: Tara Campbelle**_

Unbeknownst to him, a pair of small dark eyes gazed at him worriedly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Grrrrrr. I HATE Courtney! I wanna kill 'er! GRRRRR!**

**Disclaimer: Thunderman not mine.**

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_**"I will not bow!**_

_**I will not break!"**_

The drums stopped for a heart-stopping moment. Her heart fell that moment, her eyelids snapping open, revealing swollen grey eyes. The harsh knocks on her door kept repeating louder and louder, muffled demanding shouts and yells ringing through the door like gunshots.

And then she heard the melodic continuation of the music. And then, once again, she shut her eyes close as she held on her knees tighter. The loud knocks on the door and the angry shouts of her parents grew distant...

_**"I will shut the world away..."**_

The vibration in her front jean pocket made her blink. She let her head rise from its current cradled position in her arms, wincing at the blunt pain in her neck. Blinking her heavy eyelids off of unwanted sleep sand, she stretched her tired limbs with a moan. She felt joints shift into their proper places, and, with less sleep clouding her mind, her eyesight adjusting.

Another vibration.

She fished her iPhone from her pocket with one hand, the other removing the earphones that were plugged into her ears for the past few hours. She pulled the earphone plug from the socket at the top of her iPhone before, finally, unlocking her phone. _**1 New Unread Message.**_ She raised an eyebrow quizically, but read it all the same.

_**- Hi. **_

Confusion clouded her mind and, before she could even register the action of replying, she did. It took her a few seconds before she realized what she had typed. - _**Max Thunderman ? - **_

She slapped her forehead with a palm, groaning at her absentminded-ness. She did this with other unknown numbers, embarassed in seeing their 'no' replies and she would frequently lie whenever she was texted a 'why' (apparently, her favorite lie is that she found his Math book and wanted to return it to him). Occasionally, she would wonder why she ever cared about the boy more than her younger brother; heck, she wondered why she ever cared about him at all!

Her phone vibrated and she winced, hesitating to look at the message. She contemplated about the matter shortly, before, reluctantly, gazing at the dimly set LED screen.

_**- Yep. Maximus Benjamin Thunderman, ready to be of service to the one and only Tara Campbelle. ...This is Tara Campbelle, right?**_

A smile threatened to tug on the edges of her lips, her grey eyes widening in mild surprise at the sight of Max's reply. Her grip on the gadget loosened momentarily as she felt light-headed all of a sudden, her heart hammering loudly against her ribcage. This feeling both fascinated and disgusted her, as she had never felt this... er, _phenomena_ before... and it bothered her greatly.

She started the first part of her message rather quickly, but stopped slowly before erasing. Her eyebrows furrowed in a serious manner and she _tsked_, reminding herself that she shouldn't be too trusting that it is him. And, if ever it is Max, she still shouldn't be that eager to hear from him.

She bit the insides of her cheeks as she urged her mind to think over her choice of words, her fingers hovering above the screen unsurely, pressing her thumbs firmly on the letters longer than she would usually have. Seconds slowly ticked by that almost seemed impossibly like endless hours to her before she sent it with a growl.

_**- Yeah . Though quick question, where do you live ? - **_

It didn't take long before she felt her iPhone rattle against her skin, and she picked it up with haste, throwing a quick glance at her own reflection in the large body mirror across the room. She noted her dishevelled ginger hair and her slightly smeared mascara, and reminded herself to get ready for the day. Her index finger slid over the rectangular space given, and heard the softest _click_ from her phone as it unlocked.

_**- ... **_

She wondered for a while what his message mean until she realized what her previous text meant. She found her cheeks flushing warmly in embarassment, a slight sense of forebode stirred inside of her before it settled and the warmth in her cheeks cooled down. Hesitation filled her to the top as she came to a conclusion to just wait.

But, it seemed that her calming down in vain served no purpose as she felt goosebumps rise on the back of her neck at the feeling of her phone's vibration. She forced her eyes to look at the text...

_**- Marven Garden's. P.S. I won't ask why you wanted to know. Don't worry. :)**_

... and smiled.

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**Song is by Breaking Benjamin, _I Will Not Bow. _Til next time, peeps! :)  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry for the late update, guys. Just with a little writer's block. By the way, KYAAAAAAH! Thanks to **AllRawrz** and **lildy75311** for the favorite and follow! Love ya, guys! :3 On the side note, I guess no more angst/drama (I have no idea what the difference is, at ALL) until later or maybe the next chap, dunno. Anyway, on with the story! :)**

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Days passed since his first sent message to Tara and, to his complete surprise, went smoothly than he ever expected it to be. Of course, at that time, he felt quite groggy from waking up only after a few hours of light sleep due to his very annoying alarm clock (which he more-or-less accidentally froze in its place).

The first few messages he received from the Campbelle made him both nervous and slightly flattered, though he wouldn't really say the latter out loud. The slight fear and caution that seemed to drawl out from her sentences is strange to him as he was used to seeing her bold, brave and courageous. It made him wonder if there is anything wrong or if there was a problem - but he shook the thought away. He knew that even though Tara might not be the toughest cookie, she's still as tough as steel.

"Max! Where did you put my bag?" A voice called out, snapping him from his thoughts. It was Phoebe screeching, obviously marching her way down his lab, _this_ little to freezing him for all eternity (or all day, depending). Of course it's his fault, hiding that new Chanel handbag Cole gave his sister.

What? He was really bored back then and it only meant to be a small prank. But, he guessed, after witnessing Phoebe almost tearing her bedroom to pieces looking for it, that he screwed up big time.

He heard the door slam loudly behind him and he threw the black handbag to the angry person behind him. He felt satisfied hearing the leather bag hit his sister with a thud, an _oof!_ escaping Phoebe's lips. He bit his lip to cover up a laugh but it is all in vain as he let out a somewhat choked girly giggle. Of course, he covered that up with a manly cough. Max turned his chair to face his sister - to only raise his eyebrows.

"Whoa, what's with the get-up?" Max asked, looking at his sister with curious eyes. He was referring to the white puffy gown and green topper she is currently wearing, but eyed the pair of jeans tucked under her arm suspiciously. "Who's dead?"

"Shut up, Max. Like you've never seen me in a dress before," Phoebe muttered, obviously annoyed by his remark.

"Okay, so maybe I did, but still. What's with you in a dress Monday morning?" Of course, he had seen her dress before but if she wouldn't change into her normal clothes, that meant that she might be ditching school. Which is totally not-so-like-her to be. She loved school!

"Yeah, I know. I just needed to finish preparing this before the end of the week," she said in complete indifference. "I was just about to change actually, well, until I heard that you hid my bag."

Max stared ahead. Oh, he is _so_ going to kill Nora!

"But anyway," Phoebe said, turning her back from him as she started to walk towards her bedroom. "I'm going."

It didn't take him long to hear the door shut close and Phoebe's loud footsteps grew fainter and fainter. He blinked before shaking his head, smiling. He would kill Nora later, but right now school comes first. Or maybe a few video games before Science?

Hmm, sounds tempting. But, nah! Anymore ditching class and he would go to the Principal's office, waiting for his parents to come and talk to the principal or vice principal for the... well, I don't know - forty-third time? He swear, he would throw his computer out of the window if he would get scolded by a teacher.

... But it still does sound tempting.

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**Please review on how I'm doing and what my mistakes are, thank you~**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hi, sorry for the late update. Been busy since school starts next month and I'm not even enrolled yet. Hehehehe. Anyway, if you look at the story, it's going through the _The Thundermans_ timeline but don't worry, I'll just choose four episodes to circle around, the rest, just snippets. I don't want to wait a long time before I write what I have in mind but I also don't want to rush things (which is quite the wait, now that I think about it, sorry). I'm guessing this stories about 20 chapters long but I hope all of you won't hate me for that.**

**To all those who favourited and followed the story, endless thanks to all of you, especially the author** _Lovedyoufirstx. _**Thank you. :)**

**P.S. : I'm hating myself. I don't like this chapter ( the ending anyway ), it messes with the story plot but still seems a good idea to add extra complicated-ness. Well, hope you guys like it anyway. Enjoy~ :3**

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"So, you're saying that the reason you were wearing that tutu is because of prom?" He said, both amused and curious by his sister's actions. He was currently walking with his sister and her best friend, Orange (or was it Apple?), as they walked towards their Math class.

Phoebe looked at Max with a confused look, her left eyebrow raised in question. "A tutu? Really Max?" she asked loudly, waving her hands in front of her frantically. "I stopped wearing those when I was in Grade 2."

The Thunder twin smirked at her, crossing his arms over his chest. "Ah, but you didn't say you threw them, did you? Especially that pink one with fairy wings that you keep in the back of your closet, still there after all these years."

Phoebe stopped walking and looked at Max, mouth gaping. The younger twin tried to hide his chuckle with a hand, completely amused by her reaction, but it seemed to have failed since Phoebe snapped out of her shocked state and flushed, both in embarrassment and anger.

"I didn't -! You sneaked in my -! No, that's-!" she stammered loudly, gaining fits of laughter from Max and a surprised look from Cherry. She composed quickly before hissing. "It's for Nora!"

"Nora likes tutus?" Max said, raising both eyebrows. "Really? That's your excuse?"

"Oh shut up!"

Cherry looked at Phoebe and Max before spreading her arms, making a literal wall between them. "Okaaay, I'm seriously OPed here," she said, smiling at the two of them before jumping in pleasant surprise. "Oh look, we're here!"

It is, indeed, Mr. Kelly's class, which, by the way, has not yet started. They had chosen their armchairs, with Max respectively _awaaay_ from the two girls, standing beside a chair located at the back while the two females sat at the front. But they still continued their small talk.

"So, prom," Max once again started, pulling the girls' attention once again. "When's it going to happen?"

Cherry had opened her mouth to answer him, but before she could even mutter a single word, an obnoxious (to Max) feminine voice rang loudly. "In about a week, Max!"

The Thunder twin would have fallen in surprise if not for the arm that had forcefully clung on to him, red hair tickling the back of his neck. He gasped and choked, unable to breathe from a certain redhead smothering him to death. "S - Sarah!" he gasped. "SARAH!"

Max ripped the firm arm from his shoulder, and breathed heavily. He would have preferred freezing the redhead but that would just make things worse. Students filled the room, making him sit down hastily on his chair and dropped his bag on the floor. He ignored the dreamy stare Sarah longingly shot to him, instead, he took down "notes", in which may or may not be useful for the pop quiz on Friday.

Doodling had been what he did for the past hour and class is at its conclusion, with the Math teacher drawling monotonously about equations or the other. He wan't exactly listening, zoning out every two minutes, his right hand subconsciously drawing whatever it is he is drawing.

_**RIIING!**_

And just like that, Max snapped from his daze and looked at the man in blue long-sleeved polo and light brown slacks. The thirty-something year old man was ranting about last minute things he forgo to mention.

"... that is why this chart with lines is called Cartesian Plane, in honor of Renes DesCartes," he said. "Well, anyway, other than that, you're all good to go. Happy dismiss, class!"

Max stretched his arms, before leaning back, crumpling the paper he doodled on and stuffing it in his bag. He lingered in the position for a moment longer, eyes closed, his head bobbing up and down to the beat of the quiet song in his head. He only opened his eyes when he heard a familiar voice, faint but still loud enough to be heard.

Wasting no time, he grabbed his bag and slung it over a shoulder and ran towards the door with much speed, causing him to almost topple with a blonde-haired girl. Max caught her by her arm before pulling her up, apologizing.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." He couldn't end his sentence, he just couldn't. He stared at those brown hazel eyes like a love struck fool for what seemed like an eternity, before he was brought back to Earth by a certain ginger haired boy he was looking for, as he walked pass the Thunderman twin. Max looked at Cole's retreating figure, then looked at the blonde. "I really am sorry about what happened!"

"It's okay," the girl said casually, shrugging her shoulders in a careless manner. "It's not like I'm not at fault," she flipped her hair over her back and smirked. "I guess guys have... a thing for me and I really can't stop them."

Max smiled before reaching out his hand. "Well, I know guys who have good taste. I'm Max."

Another smirk. "Courtney." The said girl took his hand (reluctantly) and shook it gently. Max once again looked at her eyes for a moment before shaking his head. He needed to talk to Cole, and he wasn't going to let someone stand in his way (even if it's a hot, beautiful girl).

"Well, I gotta go but, see you?"

"Why not?" She shrugged her shoulders, locks of blonde hair cascading down her shoulders.

Max half-grinned before sprinting towards Cole, this time careful not to stumble on anyone. He soon reached the older teen and skidded to a stop. "Hey, Cole-dude!"

The Campbelle whirred around, and smiled as he saw the Thunderman twin, choosing to ignore the nickname he gave him. "Max. Anything I can do for you?"

"You could say that. Could you give me a heads-up on Tara? I need your opinion," Max states easily, making a sudden relief pass through him. He isn't really the nervous type but, meh! People have their first times.

"Sure!" Cole answered quite enthusiastically, surprising Max mildly. "Anything."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hiyo! It's been almost a month? Hehe, sorry. Some... problems broke out and I need to be somewhere. Also, school officially started on Monday so I don't know when I'll update. Maybe two-three times? Maybe, I dunno. Thanks to all you who read this but I will be more grateful for reviews (pls. no flames.) or even tell if I made a mistake. Thank you and enjoy! :)**

**P.S. I had to rewrite the ending a lot of times before I settled with this. Please tell me if it's okay, and any suggestions as how to close this chapter. Thank you.**

**P.P.S. A reason why it's Rated T.**

**Disclaimer: Nope. Not. Sorry.**

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She leaned against the cold glass, fingers wrapped on the mug that she held tightly. She breathed softly and silently, the heat of her breath clouding a small part of the see-through sliding door. Her grey eyes looked down, her pupils narrow but also slightly wide impossibly at the same time. Sweat beaded her forehead profusely - it might have been the warm night weather, it might have been the intensity of her stare or something, she isn't sure.

She placed the rim of the mug on her lips, sipping the hot black, bitter coffee slowly. Her tongue tingled from the warm liquid and she sighed contentedly, the beverage leaving her stomach warm. She downed the rest of her coffee after, her eyes never leaving at what they are staring at. Specifically, _who_ she was staring at.

Tara could see him.

She could see him there, riding a child's bicycle and failing miserably at it. She winced, seeing his epic fall on the ground, face first. The Campbelle sighed. She really wanted to help the boy but that would mean that Tara, Hiddenville's resident bad girl, is going soft and she cannot have that, even if she did care more than what she let on.

Tara frowned. No, that wasn't it. She wasn't the type who would care about what other people say (well, maybe), really, she just tend to stay... _unemotional. _

She wanted to help him, she really did, but she wanted to watch him. Watch him, his motives and his actions. Call her paranoid but the Campbelle doesn't care. She needed to know what kind of person he is and that maybe she would finally understand why he had caught her eye. Maybe it was his extreme nature as she remembered the day of their... erm, dinner party? Or, maybe it was the air of mystery around him or that painfully unfamiliar familiarity that she feels whenever she comes across him, she didn't know!

The gray-eyed girl groaned, her figure sliding to the floor slowly. She placed the cup on the carpet-covered floor, before face palming hard with her left hand. _Oh God,_ she groaned mentally, _why me? Why am I having these thoughts? More importantly, why __**him**__?_

A minute of silence was given, her eyes closed as she tried to calm her thoughts, rubbing her aching temples as she did so. A loud pulsating pain coursed through her head, and she gave out a strangled grunt, her hand freezing mid-air. The Campbelle hated headaches but even after all the years, she still isn't fond of taking aspirin or any other medications to remove the ache.

Reluctantly, she took the cup and got to her feet, slightly dizzy from her head's pain. She slowly walked towards the kitchen of her rented home and washed the dishes - which isn't really much, considering that she's alone and she doesn't eat much. Strands of ginger hair fell down her face making her tuck them under her ear, not really bothered by the fact that dish-washing soap clung to said strands.

She worked in silence, the only sounds breaking through the quiet was the loud hiss of running water from the silver faucet and the _clack! _of chinaware hitting against each other. A minute or two passed quickly, and she finally turned the knob of the faucet, the water decreasing til it finally closed with a drop.

Tara sighed, her back now against the sink, arms crossed and head bowed. She gnashed her teeth in annoyance and frustration. Her headache pounded furiously and she bit back a whimper, eyes tightly closed. She pinched the bridge of her nose, her right foot tapping impatiently. If only there was something that's not of value and in reach, then maybe she can throw it across the room (what? She needs an outlet to vent out her pain!).

**'Uhh... don't be! I'm a big fan of your work. Don't suppose you want to grab lunch?'**

She once again groaned, huffing in frustration. He just _had_ to pop in her thoughts, doesn't he? She let her hands touch the edge of the sink, her fingers holding the edge before she pushed herself off the counter. The Campbelle touched her forehead, flinching from the sudden pain that seemed to be amplified by the coldness of her fingers.

Shaking her head slowly, she took off towards her previous place in the living room, pressing both palms on the glass and glancing below. He was hiding the bike behind a bush before re-emerging, the helmet and knee-guards he used probably shoved inside the black bag he slung over his shoulders.

She smiled in relief, releasing a small silent stream of thanks to the Heavens, seeing him safe and sound (exclude the deep cut on his knee and the bruise on his arms). The local TV news had reported massive kidnappings as of late and she was worried as hell when she saw him one night weeks ago running towards the still-being built park, worried on his behalf. Tara couldn't really shake of the feeling but somehow, emotions rose above the surface whenever worry crossed her mind.

Once again, she groaned. Oh God, she hated puberty, hormones and all these _shit._

A ringtone snapped her from her self-hate thoughts and she looked at her phone, blank and frozen. She already knew who it was so she hadn't need to take the call. She was guessing that it was another futile attempt in calling her back home - another guess correct. Her mother and father's calls are the only things right now that both drove her crazy and drove her guilt insanely.

Another reason why being who she is right now complicated her life, _yay!_ (Please note sarcasm.) She looked once again at his retreating figure, her breath still and short. He was the other half of it.

She had heard from her brother about Max's question over the phone hours ago and she was quite surprised when she did. Most boys who knew her would steer out of her way whenever there was school event, as they had assumed that she doesn't like to be disturbed by things such as Prom or Valentines or stuff - half the reason was because she used to turn down offers before and other.

But Max... Max was different. He didn't ask her directly like other freshmen would but instead, asked Cole, one of the few who knew her that well. Even if it was just maybe his in his personality to do so, he kind of respected her, _in a way._ But nevertheless, she felt respected albeit knowing that her brother had warned him of her rejections (which she would still do, even if it was the Thunderman twin who asked).

She smiled halfheartedly, her timbre reverberating soft laughter. Tara remembered their very first encounter, her bumping into him, him saying that cheesy line, and her taking his tuna sandwich before walking towards the library. But that's not the point, what she flashback-ed was not the sentence itself nor the way it was delivered but that glint in his eyes when he said it.

The Campbelle was used to seductive, arrogant, try hard, fake, nerd, uncaring, manic, perverse and other kinds of stares from boys, some even of fear, terror and nervous. She wasn't used to the friendly and naive look in his eyes (although, there is hints of try hard), throwing her slightly aback. _Slightly. _She didn't really react to anything really.

She gave out a chuckle, her body wracking in gentle quakes. Her eyes glistened mysteriously before she wiped the wetness with her thumbs quickly, hiccuping once. Innocence was taken from her in an early age, being exposed to quite a lot of certain... _things._ And seeing him, his playful, innocent eyes... it reminded her of the years where she was still home schooled, unaware of the outer world. Once she reached nine, though, she was finally allowed to go out and explore the world. The price? A life full of scars and wounds.

She shook her head, strands of strawberry blonde flailing around. This isn't the right time now to reminisce about the past. The past is the past, and she wouldn't let it get to her. Not now, not **_ever! _**She crossed her arms against her chest, a full smile blossoming on her face._  
_

_That is why today is called present. Another gift from God to cherish until it lasts._

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**A/N: ****I just realized that I made a mistake in the previous chapter. I just remembered that Phoebe had Math Honors Class (I think that's it) and so I'll change the subject maybe tomorrow. Sorry. See you next chapter! :)**


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